Just Feels Right
by Peridot-Eyes
Summary: When Pema told Tenzin for the first time, she thought it must have been a dream. Pema/Tenzin.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm a sucker for these two. I mean, how cute are they?**

**I might do a whole series of these. Only time (and your reviews...) will tell. :)**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I own absolutely nothing.**

* * *

"Let me touch it."

"Why?" he asked wearily, for the third time that night. "It's just my forehead. It's a tattoo."

When her hand reached out again, he meant to push it away, but didn't.

"I expected it to glow, or something. Or get hot, at least."

His head was growing hot, but for completely different reasons. Pema was reclining in his lap, drunkenly exploring how far she could push Tenzin before he either kissed her or sent her home. Her reddening lips and bright hazel eyes inclined towards the former, but his girlfriend's sharp reprieve still lingered in his mind, winged and threatening.

"_If you don't want to be with me, that's fine. But don't bullshit me, Tenzin. It's insulting that you think I'm that stupid."_

He recalled the ache in her voice as she said those words, the tremble of her strong fists. Standing just behind her, it would have been the perfect moment to hold her in his arms and pry the suspicions from her with gentle words – but he'd just watched her drift away to the rest of the party, dully wondering why he hadn't said anything.

And here he was a few hours later, confirming her accusations. The 'pretty girl with the pony-tail', as Lin had snidely remarked, was getting exactly what she wanted.

"You don't drink, do you Tenzin?" she asked, rolling back her bare shoulders and looking at him with wondrous curiosity.

"No, I don't, Pema."

She seemed contented at this, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Suddenly she sprang up, now at eye-level, and leaning lightly into his arm. Her bright eyes suggested an epiphany.

"And yet, you're the most interesting person I know."

He grunted, sitting back on the bench where she had come to meet him. "How so?"

"Well," she smiled. "Most people in this city don't get interesting until they've had a few. That's when they really come alive. But you're…what's the word…tee-total. And I could sit here talking to you all night."

He laughed, misunderstanding the warmth that filled him at her comment.

"Well Pema, that's because you're a little inebriated yourself. I'm no more fascinating than any one of the people here tonight.

Pursing her lips, she shook her head. "No," she emphasised haltingly, "I could be sober. I could be tired and grumpy and I don't know,_ sick_ and still want to be with you."

He didn't respond to this. She lurched closer, so close that he could smell the alcohol on her warm breath.

"Tenzin."

"Yes?"

"I feel wonderful when I talk to you. But not like a little girl with butterflies in her stomach. I feel _right_."

He averted his gaze. The way she looked, the way she spoke, he didn't know what he might do. Shrugging from her contact, he said nothing. But the warmth spreading from his throat betrayed him.

"How often do we get to feel right in life?" she whispered.

Pema was shivering. The moon was inching into the sky as the sun faded, the wind pitching a low whistle and rustling through the trees across the island. He closed his eyes and felt past the lilting murmur of the party across the way and simply listened to the air, trying to right himself for just a moment.

"I'm expecting you to tell me I'm ridiculous or bring up Lin," her voice grew warm and passionate, "But I know what I'm feeling. This has nothing to do with the wine, so don't tell me it does."

Her heart was pounding, Tenzin knew. Her unabashed young eyes searched his silver gaze, pressing the matter firmly into his mind and into his heart. Breaking the confrontation, he looked once again into the rising moon.

He shrugged off his outer shawl. Swiftly, so as to avoid touching her marble skin, he draped it over her shoulder.

"Thank you, Tenzin." She sighed, nestling closely into it.

He wasn't sure that she was just thanking him for the shawl.

Meanwhile, Lin was slowly creeping back into his thoughts. He was sure he had heard her far-off throaty laugh just a few seconds ago. Or maybe it had been the wind taunting his weak-willed mind. Lost in thought, he jumped when Pema's arm intertwined itself with his, her head softening into his shoulder.

She then murmured three sweet little words and nodded into a doze, her soft catching breaths so mesmerising that the trained airbender could hear little else. He brought his free arm across his brow. Why wasn't he tensing at her touch? Why wasn't he pushing her away and telling her he was still with Lin? Why did he feel at peace as he had never done before?

"It's time to go, Pema." he remarked. But he did not stir. No bodily or spiritual urges told him to leave exactly where he was right then.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi! I've decided to make this into a multi-chapter story. I was going to make it into a series of one-shots but decided that I'd quite like to see where this goes...The 'aftermath', if you will. ;) Anyway, feedback of any kind is always appreciated.**

**Lots of love. xxxx**

* * *

"_Am I…alive?" _

Pema awoke to her roommate's croaky whisper and the groan of the mattress, followed by a harrowing bugle call that knocked her right into her hangover. Her head seared, and she let out a silent scream into the pillow, burying her face in its warmth.

She listened as Imji got dressed, enjoying the temporary denial. Outside people were already trudging to the main temple, complaining of their maladies in low voices. She thought she heard the words 'Never again' at least twenty times.

"Training. Come on."

"No."

"Pema. If I'm getting up, you're getting up."

Pema turned over, trying to push herself up – but the world was spinning far too quickly. Admitting defeat, she pulled the blankets over her head.

"Tell them that I've contacted the spirit world in my sleep and shouldn't be disturbed."

Imji sighed, and Pema heard her mattress creak as her room-mate sat down. Very quickly, Pema worked out what she was doing. She sprang up and out of bed, knocking Imji off and causing the cup of water to clatter onto the tiled floor.

"Pema!"

"You were going to pour that on me!" Pema cried hoarsely.

Imji laughed. "Well at least it got you out of bed."

Pema groaned. It was going to be a long day.

"Morning meditation is a bitch." Imji said firmly, digging into her rice with undue force.

Pema's stomach turned at the thought of food. Managing a sip of tea, she winced, gazing out of the window behind her roomate's head. A grey haze hung around her memory of last night. The only clear recollection was of the first few sober and very awkward hours in that crowded hall. Imji had been trying to pry her from her safe corner all night, pushing her to dance with a 'nice boy' from the city.

"Wondering how embarrassing you were? Wondering if you did anything stupid?"

Pema glared flush into her friend's smirking face. Panic was fast spreading through her. Turning her head to see if anyone was nearby, she leant across the table corner.

"What did I do?"

Imji smirked, relishing the power she wielded.

"Give me your pickled cabbage and I'll tell you." She said.

Pema rolled her eyes, laying the green slug-like mass on her room-mate's plate. She recoiled as her room-mate slurped it up and caused a few monks to jump in the process.

"Right," she wiped her mouth on her sleeve, "Well you like, point blank refused to dance with Joksin, so I just left you for a little bit in your loner corner." She lowered her voice, knowing the monks would be listening, "I left you with our rice wine and like twenty minutes later you came out on the dance floor all emotional. It was kind of cute… Joksin put his arm around you." She added, excitedly.

Pema blushed, not sure that she wanted to hear the rest of the story.

"Go on."

Imji was eyeing Pema's plate again. Pema pushed it over, exasperated. "Go on!"

"So we danced for a little bit, but then you said you were tired. Joksin was gonna walk you back to your room but you were telling him not to bother."

She remembered pushing the boy away as she left the room. He'd been really clingy - Pema had felt a little sick at his embrace, and had been constantly aware of people watching her. The night air had been brisk. She'd remembered feeling cold and dizzy.

It only took the flourish of an acolyte's orange robes as she got up for everything else to come back, rippling through her mind like a wave.

Pema grabbed her face with both hands, "No…"

"So do you think you'll see him again? He said that we should sneak out one night and come see him on the mainland. His dad owns a bar!"

Pema shook her head, closing her eyes. Walking towards Tenzin's silhouette under the crisp black sky – the way her heart had skipped when he turned to look at her. She suddenly felt very hot, and nauseous with dread.

"I was thinking, if we sneak out straight after dinner and get the last boat back before dawn, no-one would notice we weren't there."

Gazing up at him from his lap, listening out for his pulse, telling him things she'd never had the courage to say aloud…

"Should we go back tonight, or would that seem a bit, y'know, desperate?"

But it must have been a dream. Pema was always having dreams about Tenzin – some more appropriate than others. Just because it had been vivid, didn't mean it had been real. Shy, boring, reclusive Pema would never profess her love for her inappropriate crush right to his face. Her best friend and nosy room-mate didn't even know how she felt about him. Like Imji had said, she must have just gone straight back to bed, drunk or not.

"Was I asleep when you got back?" she asked shortly, her heart pounding.

Imji raised her eyebrow at this non-sequitur.

"Yeah. You were totally knocked out when I got back at like, midnight."

She laughed suddenly. "You kept mumbling something about Master Tenzin."

Pema's blood ran cold and she was filled with an emotion that felt a lot like disappointment rather than relief. She must have imagined it – dreamt it up and talked about it in her sleep. And yet, she could still hear her heartbeat in her ears.

"Tenzin? I must have had my dream about him making me clean the whole temple again." She managed an awkward laugh which she hoped would appease Imji.

It did, and her room-mate returned to her directionless ramblings about the cute boys from the city. Pema, meanwhile, allowed her mind to wander – but she kept having to shake off the feeling that it could have all been real.

Images breezed through her mind, ghost-touches drifting over her fingertips. She could have sworn that she had felt the warmth of his face, felt the rush of adrenaline as she spoke her true feelings. She blushed fiercely at the thought. Those lines had been rehearsed a thousand times in her head, but were too private to ever share.

She was cowardly old Pema, she reminded herself. In her two years at the air temple and her eighteen years on this earth, she'd never strayed from this path. No amount of potent drink was going to change that.

* * *

Tenzin tried to roll up the same prayer mat for a third time. Never satisfied with the result, he kept flattening it out again, growing more agitated every time.

His mother watched her youngest son, her aged face crinkling in concern.

"What's wrong, Tenzin?"

He sighed, trying to clear his thoughts. "Nothing at all, mother. Would you like me to help you with those scrolls?"

"Tenzin," she chided, "I'm not a mind-reader, but I can certainly tell when you're upset. What's bothering you?"

Tenzin was getting too old for his mother's concern. She herself was no longer as spry as she used to be and he hated to involve her in his affairs. Just last night, she'd tried to corner him as he was going to bed. In truth, he hated how his mother encouraged him to address his feelings, however painful they may be.

And at this moment, they were very painful and distressing indeed.

"I'm…conflicted."

Before she could speak, he finished his task and rose to his feet. Turning away from her, he tried to race of quickly. But he could not get away so easily. His mother's voice came, quiet but resonant.

"About Lin?"

Tenzin desperately wished that his father was still alive. For the first time in a long time, his absence was deafening. He could imagine the talks they might have, which would inevitably resolve in his father recommending further meditation. His mother's approach was more direct, and being a skilled suppresser of emotion, Tenzin loathed it.

"Mother, I don't want to discuss it at the moment." He paused, collecting himself with a deep breath. "My feelings for Lin remain unchanged."

But even as he said them, he sensed their unsoundness. They left a bitter taste in his mouth that he couldn't shake off, even after walking from the temple to the training ground. He passed many people on the way. He had to stop himself from looking out for her face in the crowds. The face that he shouldn't long for – that up until last night he was sure he did not desire.

His frustration subsided after a few simple bending exercises, but thoughts still overcrowded his mind.

The fight with Lin yesterday was the latest of many. They were going through what some might call a 'rough patch' – but as his brother Bumi used to like saying, Tenzin and Lin's whole relationship was a 'rough patch'.

"_Are we going to get married?"_

_Lin turned away from him, "I don't know, are we?"_

"_It seems the thing to do." _

"_Wrong answer."_

But it was a fifteen year relationship, crumbling before him. His life had been constructed under the pretence of becoming a skilled air-bender, helping to keep peace in the city and marrying his childhood sweetheart. Just when the other two aims had come to fruition, it seemed he would have to give up the third entirely.

It was Pema's words, slurred and sweet, that pounded through his mind like a mantra.

"_I feel wonderful when I talk to you."_

"_I feel right."_

"_How often do we get to feel right in life?"_

He recalled the peace he'd felt in her presence and found himself smiling, despite himself. Twisting silky streams of air through his outstretched hands, he breathed and thought about her.

If he envisioned Pema, simply right here with him - her living, breathing body and soul - his path seemed clear. But she carried complications that his mind had been aligning late into the night.

_Too young. Your pupil. Lin._

But that last reason was quickly losing its effect.

* * *

She had gone all day without seeing him, much to her relief and undeniably, disappointment. Every time she rounded a corner, her heart hammered, though she had spent the day reminding herself that he could not, in fact, read minds. Even so, as she was frequently reminded in meditation, 'the products of the mind could have powerful effects on the body'. It only made sense that she'd be nervous about seeing him in real life.

'Real life'. How bizarre to think that the dream could have been part of it - if Pema wasn't so pathetic when it came to anything emotional. It was tiring to battle against her mind, which kept replaying the intense moments of the dream back to her. She found it difficult to lose herself in any task without it reminding her of him in some way. Though she was used to him being a distraction for her, this new feeling, no doubt inspired by the dream, was positively fanatical.

As if she had not been strained enough. By the time they got back to their room after a tiring day, Imji was still scheming.

"I've decided. We'll go tomorrow night. I checked after dinner – they keep the ship unattended, so we could just sneak on." She paused. "But what should I wear?"

Pema sighed, feeling drained and not in the mood for a long girly conversation.

"Wear…Wear a cloak and a hood. Then you'll look mysterious."

Imji laughed, waggling an eyebrow, "With…nothing under it?"

When she got no reply, she leant in close to Pema.

"Look, if you really don't want to go, we won't. But it's just," she sighed, "I haven't left the island for weeks. It's the same every single day."

"Not true. Sometimes we do meditation after dinner, too."

"Pema! Please. I'm not like you. Becoming an Air Acolyte is so much tougher than I thought."

Imji had joined the Acolytes on a whim. Bored of her studies at the city university, and tired of living at home with a step-father she couldn't stand, she'd somehow wound up at a seminar on the history of Air Nation culture. Her attitude towards the lifestyle varied between intense passion and intense boredom – always intense, because Imji knew no other way.

"I need to go have some fun. And you do too! And it isn't like Master Tenzin's going to notice. He's so busy with that bitch of a fiancé."

"They're not engaged." Pema corrected, trying to sound blasé.

"Well, not yet. But come on, they've been together for so long. They obviously love each other a lot. Plus, wouldn't it be awesome if the son of the avatar married the chief of police? They'd be like, a power couple!"

Pema would never get used to the sting she felt when confronted with their relationship – particularly when people talked about how 'proper' their union would be. It was a fact that they would, politically, be a good match. And not to _mention_ the powerful bending children they could have. Imagine, people would whisper, bringing back a race of airbenders.

For some reason, it was the thought of Lin having Tenzin's children that brought a pain Pema could hardly bear.

It was their turbulent relationship that had given her hope and encouraged this stupid fascination. Being the only real couple on the island, the ups and downs of their love life were common knowledge. Every time they had a fight, Pema would immediately and secretly be put in a good mood.

These private victories only gave her false hope, because he would never in a million years return her feelings. Their relationship, though strong through two years of friendship, was platonic. She was a little girl and he was the son of the most powerful being on earth. The image of the dream only confirmed how ridiculous her fantasy was.

The room was quiet, and in this moment, Pema made her decision.

"I'll come."

Imji grinned.

"Of course you will. Because," she sang, "You want to see Joksin again!"

Rolling her eyes, Pema crawled into bed. Maybe someday, she would want to see another man – would dream of confessing her love to him, instead. She hoped she would. She blinked away a few tears from her eyes. She had to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you so much to my lovely readers! I hope you enjoy this chapter. As always, reviews are very much appreciated. :)**

* * *

The next morning in the main corridor, Pema got what she'd both been dreading and craving. She walked straight into Tenzin, knocking several scrolls out of his arms in the process.

"Master Tenzin! I'm so sorry."

She leant down to pick them up, avoiding his eyes and trying her best to disguise her madly blushing face. There was that nervous feeling again, spreading through her. He was already on the floor, hurriedly stacking them himself.

"Not to worry. I've got them, I've got them."

He seemed strangely tense. Ordinarily, he was the calm one, always starting a friendly conversation that left Pema stuttering. But he seemed equally reluctant to meet her eyes and didn't say a word.

For a while, she simply lingered awkwardly. She would have walked on, but she couldn't escape the feeling that something was missing, and felt obliged to stay. The silence between them was strange and unnatural.

"How are you?" she blurted out, immediately regretting it.

Pema stepped back when she caught the intense look in his eyes. In that small moment, she saw a glimpse of a troubled Tenzin – something she hadn't seen since the Avatar's funeral years before. It quickly disappeared and the Tenzin she knew seemed to return, as if nothing had happened.

"I'm well, Pema. How are you?"

Pema smiled uncertainly. "Good. I'm good…" she paused to admire the view out to sea from the window, "Lovely day we're having."

"Yes…yes. We should have warmer evenings from now on." The way he spoke only made him seem more distracted, and not simply by the beautiful weather that promised the coming summer.

"That'll be nice. Maybe we can meditate outside."

Knowing that she and Imji were going to sneak out tonight, Pema couldn't help but feel guilty. He seemed stressed enough as it was. That look had revealed much more than the restrained, patient man would ever admit to.

A small, suppressed part of her had to wonder if he'd had another fight with Lin. She tried to ignore the glimmering feeling this gave her. _Boys. Think about those boys you're meant to be excited about seeing._

But he looked so handsome in this light, with his fine jaw and high cheekbones. She noted the growing stubble across his chin, so similar to his father's. She'd give anything to soothe the pensive look in his grey eyes. They were shrouded with a weariness Pema had not seen before. He looked, Pema thought, as if he had aged.

"I have to go," he said, looking away suddenly.

"Oh." Pema managed_._

"We should," he hesitated, "Speak again, soon."

Pema bowed quickly to him, beginning to walk away too. At least she hadn't embarrassed herself too badly. Already, this showed progress. Perhaps a friendship with Tenzin wouldn't be so unbearable, if she took it one step at a time – and tried to ignore the leaps in her stomach.

As she brushed past him, something small fell from his pocket, dropping softly to the tile floor. Instinctively, Pema yelped an apology and reached down to pick it up. It had fallen open.

Seeing what it was, she made a little noise, a sort of 'Oh!' and thrust it into his hand. She frantically turned, closing her eyes as she quickly walked away.

She left him standing there, with his gold ring and his little box.

* * *

"Do you think I look alright?"

"You look gorgeous! Joksin will be all over you."

Pema smiled. Maybe she was starting to like the sound of that.

She glanced at herself in the reflection of a store window, checking the topknot she had carefully crafted that evening. Much better than the pigtails. She wanted to look like a lady tonight.

Imji was visibly buzzing. It was obvious that she was a city girl. The roar of Sato-mobiles, the click of heels, the cat-calls from burly men – it all seemed to make her so giddy. Pema tried her best to feel the same. But something in the pit of her stomach was holding her back.

When they got to the bar, Joksin and his taller, wider friend were seated at a booth. The music was load and pervasive, the room filled with smoke. Judging by the empty glasses, it seemed the boys had started without them.

"Ji-ji, baby!"

Imji squealed, nestling herself into her respective partner's arms. Meanwhile, Pema took a seat next to Joksin, trying out her best smile.

"Why, hello Pema."

His arm rested over the back of her, expectantly. She couldn't help but shift her shoulder slightly away. Now she recalled why she'd been so anxious to leave the party.

"Hi. Thanks for inviting us. Nice place you got here."

Joksin laughed coarsely. "Yeah, the place isn't bad. I prefer the company, though."

Had Pema felt anything, she was sure she would've blushed. Instead, she offered a small laugh, which could have easily been a clearing of the throat.

Imji was already ordering a round of drinks, which Joksin insisted were 'on the house'.

As the night continued, Pema sipped at her wine, but still did not feel drunk enough to enjoy their company. They were quite dull and the boys often slipped into tiresome discussions about Pro-Bending. A few times, someone put a good record on and they all got up to dance, but Joksin refused to keep his hands on her waist. Tactically, Pema had dragged Imji to the ladies' room whenever a slow song came on.

When there were too many bottles on the table to count and the room was finally clearing out, the conversation changed.

"So, what's it like living on Baldy Island?" Joksin asked, stroking Pema's upper arm in a way that she found a bit irritating.

"What? What's that?" Imji giggled loudly. The boy, whose lap she was now sitting on, coiled his arm tighter around her.

"You know, the place you live. We call it Baldy Island. 'Cause everyone's bald."

Imji seemed to find this hysterical. Pema swirled her drink in one hand. She wondered what time it was. They couldn't miss the boat or there would be serious consequences. Leaving the island without permission was strictly prohibited, particularly if it meant missing mass meditation.

"We're not bald…"

"Yeah but that old guy with the arrows. He's seriously bald."

Pema laughed. "Okay, you've got me there. But he's an Airbender. He's the Avatar's son."

"I don't care who he is," the other boy suddenly cut in, "He kicked us out of the party the other night, just when it was getting started. He's an asshole."

Imji was still laughing.

"He's got a lot of responsibility, though. He's the last airbender there is."

The other boy scoffed. "Well, maybe that's how it's meant to be, y'know? Weak nations are meant to die out."

Pema stared at the boy, then at Imji, who had calmed down but seemed to have no idea what was going on.

"Weak nations die out...? Do you even know what an Air Acolyte is?"

"Yeah, you flounce around in your outfits and daydream all day." He was smirking, now. But even Imji had been reduced to hiccupping.

Pema's disbelief was simmering into anger, helped along by the alcohol. "We are trying to re-build an entire nation from more or less scratch. An entire culture that was destroyed by war-mongering psychos."

Having noticed the old fire nation helmet behind the bar, she'd decided against saying 'fire nation psychos'. It wasn't polite to refer to nationalities as separate factions in Republic City, but there were still some people who spoke reminiscently of the 'good times' of the colonies. They'd been a big problem when Republic City was first built, but it was rare to come across them these days. She supposed that this their parents must be old Fire Nation aristocracy.

His reaction confirmed this. "They were protecting their interests. Not that I want to go into a history lesson," he said dismissively. "So tell me, how do meditation and pandering to Baldy's every whim help in rebuilding such a 'great nation'?"

Pema started to speak, but Joksin cut her off with a steady hand.

"Now, now, that's not fair on these ladies. They train very hard," he slurred.

Pema felt a hand creeping down her back.

"I mean, who could argue with that ass?"

In her life, Pema had had moments when everything seemed to slow down, as if giving her the time to make the right decision. And nothing was more satisfying than the long moment in which she drew back her fist and punched the 'nice boy from the city' in the face.

She jumped from her seat and managed to pull Imji out of the booth, extricating her from the other boy's tight grip. The boys seemed too shocked to move, a thin trickle of blood leaking from Joksin's cupped nose. Pema turned on them with relish.

"Thank you for one of the most uncomfortable evenings of my life. If I ever feel inclined to soiree with two sexist, arrogant Fire-Nationalists, you'll be the first guys I call."

Adrenaline coursing through her veins, Pema half-carried a very confused Imji back to the docks, all the while casting glances behind her to check they weren't charging after her. Time to go home.

* * *

"All I can say is that I'm very, very surprised. And I don't want to have to be disappointed, too. So, would you mind telling us where you went last night?"

Pema liked Master Katara. She was a fair woman. What she did not like was having to explain why after unloading the boat cargo that morning, they had found their two missing junior acolytes asleep between two crates of cabbages.

As if the humiliation hadn't been enough, it had been Tenzin who finally found them. He had helped her carry Imji back onto dry land, but had remained steely silent the whole time. It was clear that he was angry. But Pema was both too irritated with him and too tired to give this much notice.

And now, awkwardly adjusting her deep V-neck dress for the fifteenth time and frantically avoiding Tenzin's gaze, she had a story to tell.

"Well," she began, "Imji and me went t-to the city last night."

"Without permission." Tenzin added, helpfully.

Had Pema not been ignoring him, she would have glared. _I bet he's proposed to her already_. The thought made her stomach curl.

"We went out to meet some friends." Though she was not going to go into their identities, "We didn't realise how late it had got. I'm so sorry Master Katara, Master…Tenzin."

Despite her doze in the ship, Pema felt exhausted. They'd missed the earliest ferry and she'd had to stay awake to wait for the next one, comforting a delirious Imji who kept asking where the boys had gone. Her room-mate was now leaning against her shoulder, eyes firmly shut and apparently completely out of it.

"You went to meet some 'friends'? And who might they be?"

"Tenzin, please." Katara said, surprised at her unusually flustered son.

Tenzin stepped forward and began to pace in front of them.

"Do you realise how..._concerned_, we were about you? You could have drowned, you could have been attacked, you could have-,"

"Now, now Tenzin. I think we've taught these girls," she hesitated, "Well, we've taught Pema, well enough that she'd keep herself safe. But, the fact is they should seek permission before disappearing off the island. We would have certainly allowed it, had they asked."

Tenzin didn't look so sure that he agreed.

"Mother-,"

"But that doesn't mean you're not going to be punished."

Pema sighed deeply. Imji groaned into her shoulder.

"I didn't know you were awake." Pema hissed at her room-mate.

"'Course I am. Just wanted to get the pity vote." She murmured quietly.

Katara appeared to hear this little exchange and smiled.

"Alright ladies, we won't be too unreasonable. You are old enough to look after yourselves, after all. Help clean the temple tonight and tomorrow evening and we'll forget this all happened."

They accepted the terms, with Tenzin looking a bit flushed at their leniency.

They were allowed to go back to their room to sleep it off providing they promised to put in extra work tomorrow. The prospect of a warm bed seemed more attractive to Pema than fifty Joksin-face-punches right now. Falling face first, she sighed into her pillow, stretching out.

_Why was Tenzin so irritated?_ He wasn't concerned with her feelings. He'd made that plain enough. He was going to marry Lin and that was that. He had no place being worried about her now.

But what are you thinking Pema? He doesn't even know how you feel. You're confusing real life with a stupid fantasy you made up in your bored little mind. You never had the guts to tell him. He's just angry at you because you made him look stupid by breaking the rules.

She was tired and upset and nonsensical. Thinking about this, or anything for that matter, was going to have to wait until she'd had a good nap.

Covering her face with the pillow, she felt something on her cheek. It was fabric; expensive fabric, nothing like the coarse mattress cover. When she pulled it out from under the pillow, she saw what it was.

An orange shawl, just like Master Tenzin's.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Sorry about the long wait. I really should be packing for tour but I think you guys deserve an update. :) This one was really difficult to write. I don't know why. Lots of feelings and heart-ache, but I promise it'll get more cheery soon. Anyway, I love you guys and I love reviews, so keep 'em coming! **

**Next update won't be for a while, so I made this one extra long. xxx**

* * *

After dinner that evening, Pema and Imji made their way to the temple. By this time the whole island had found out about their little excursion. They received a few curious looks from the other acolytes on their way over, which Imji revelled in.

"I feel like I'm famous." She grinned.

Imji had a fairly selective memory of the night before, but luckily remembered to thank Pema for taking care of her. In return, Pema decided not to remind Imji of her near hysteria every time one of the boys cracked a joke.

"They were really out of line. I'm so sorry that we stuck around for so long. But, at least we got a night out. And free drinks!"

Pema smiled wryly. "Always looking on the bright side."

"God. What assholes." She lamented, throwing her arms up. "I'm sworn off boys. All guys our age are immature."

"Looking for a nice old man, then?"

"Oh god, no. No-one over thirty. I don't want to be wheeling him around."

Pema was bothered by this, but disguised it with a gentle simper.

As they approached the temple steps, Imji suddenly broke into laughter.

"What is it?" Pema glanced at her.

"Oh, nothing. I just can't believe you actually punched him. _Punched_ him, really?"

"Who did you punch, Pema?"

They both jumped at the sound of Tenzin's voice. He stood in the doorway expectantly, with two scrubbing brushes and two buckets by his feet. Pema pretended to be fascinated with her own shoes.

He seemed to be in a better mood, perhaps because he got to enforce the punishment on the two trouble-makers. _Or maybe because he's just been with his wonderful now-fiancé._

"Imji, you're going to clean the prayer hall. Pema, the main hall."

As he led a reluctant Imji away, Pema's panic really set in. She checked once again that the orange shawl remained intact in the wide pocket of her shirt.

Hiding the item from Imji had been enough of a hassle. She had scarcely got any sleep that whole afternoon as she turned the significance of the shawl over in her mind, all the while twisting it through her hands. It felt too familiar. Frighteningly familiar.

_Pema, take it easy. He probably just dropped it when he came into your room looking for you._

But Tenzin wasn't the type to do that. He wasn't careless with stuff that meant something to him.

Then the only other explanation…

Tenzin had returned with her cleaning materials and was beckoning her into the main hall. Almost tripping over her own feet on her way over, Pema wondered when the best time to return the shawl would be. Perhaps she could sneak it into his room this evening.

"Right. The entire hall is the size of two sky bisons. So, it should take around…four hours to clean."

She couldn't help herself. "Sky bisons? Why are you measuring the size of the room in sky bisons?"

"Well," he said distantly, "It's something of a habit of mine. My father used to do it. When he first built the temple-,"

"Five sky bisons by six sky bisons! So that's what the inscription on the back of the gate means!"

He smiled, making Pema's heart leap in the process. "Yes. You're the first person I've spoken to who's noticed that. If I'm correct, my Uncle Sokka carved it on as a bit of a joke."

Pema laughed, feeling wonderfully light all of a sudden. All traces of his bad mood that morning appeared to have evaporated. And if the dream could have been real... then perhaps her infatuation with Tenzin wasn't so misplaced after all. She allowed herself to be convinced of this as she got to work on the floor, energised by this sweet possibility.

Tenzin returned every so often, once with a tray of tea. He spoke the occasional word in his calm, reflective manner, which soon became very soothing. She had to admit that he was a very insightful man, even if his behaviour was very confusing.

When the sun had finally gone down, leaving the temple in shadows, she was aware of his presence once again. Her hands clasped the brush slightly tighter and she continued, despite her fatigue.

"I think that's enough for the night, Pema."

Relieved, she dropped it from her hands and subsequently fell to her knees. She hastily got to her feet, more than a little embarrassed, and was going to ask where she would put the mop when-,

"I'm sorry about this morning."

Looking up at him, she was startled. "What?"

He stretched out his neck, shifting slightly in embarrassment. "I said, I'm sorry about how I acted this morning. It wasn't right of me to be so…interrogational. I hope you don't think less of me for it."

"No!" she said, far too loudly considering the quiet. "No. You had every right to be angry. When I joined the temple I made a promise to, you know, stick to the rules."

_And not fall in love with you. I swear that was in the fine print… _

"I understand you have a life outside the temple. It can be very," he grimaced, "Tiresome, living such a restricted life."

_Had Imji said something to Tenzin?_ Regardless, Pema felt irritated by this assumption.

"No, Tenzin. This place is my home. I…I didn't really want to go to the mainland, if I'm honest. Everything I need is right here."

Immediately realising what she had said she backtracked hastily, leaving no time to notice the small smile on his face. "I mean, I don't miss the city. Everyone here – the whole temple – they're my family."

He nodded. "Imji misses her own family, I imagine. Do you ever…excuse me for asking, do you ever plan on returning to your family?"

Pema shrugged, gazing down at the floor.

Tenzin knew of the circumstances that had lead Pema to becoming an Air Acolyte. When she was ten, her father had been poisoned by a Triad member. At the time, the Avatar was still alive. With help of the police force, they had eventually found the criminal and charged him with murder. Tracking him down had taken three strenuous years.

Fearing for the rest of her family constantly, Pema hadn't felt safe in all that time - until the day she saw the Avatar enter that courtroom. Such peace, such eloquence and grace. When she found out about the Air Acolytes, she could scarcely contain her excitement. Compared to the madness of her family life, with a mother and three little brothers to take care of, restoring the great Air Nation to its former glory was a godsend. A long wait of three more years and she moved to Air Temple Island permanently, avowing herself to years of service.

Did Pema miss her family? When she thought about them, she did. She missed her mother's food, her brothers' sense of humour. But she was left with so little time to think about them that they often slipped horribly out of her focus.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." He whispered.

She didn't contradict him, but instead offered him a small smile.

"I have something of yours."

"Oh?"

Her heart began to race at double, triple speed. With shaking hands, she pulled the shawl out and handed it to him. When he didn't appear shocked, she could have kissed him. He smiled.

"I forgot I'd given that to you. Thank you for returning it."

The look shared between them cleared any awkwardness away, leaving room for a whole flood of new emotions. Pema grinned, the happiness radiating from her head to her fingertips. It was _real_.

"Well thank you for lending it to me. I'm sorry, I was a little drunk…" she murmured, enjoying the proximity.

"I thought you'd forgotten."

She could have told him that she hadn't believed it. That it'd been too good to believe. But instead, she didn't say a word. Tenzin was studying her face, his silver eyes soft. A breeze fluttered through his collar. Pema's hand seemed to follow a path of its own, flattening it down gently. Her hand pressed softly onto his warm chest.

Her voice was heady and unfamiliar to her own ears. "Are you-,"

"Tenzin! Can I-,"

They both started, Pema jumping back and wheeling about to see Imji standing in the doorway, her expression unreadable in the darkness. Tenzin let out an audible sigh.

"Of course, Imji. You've done an excellent job, I'm sure. Just make sure…make sure you come back tomorrow night."

She walked off, letting the brush clatter to the floor and disappearing into the night. Pema lurched forward to follow her, her stomach dropping. _Oh god, Imji's angry_. But she didn't want to leave Tenzin.

"I…" she tried to recapture the moment, but it had flown. Tenzin was looking away, dragging a hand down his face.

_Lin. He's thinking about Lin._

Though he could have been feeling anything; regret, anger, sadness, what Pema thought she saw was uncertainty. Being with Tenzin wasn't just going to be wonderful moments. It would be hard. It would be complicated and painful and yet it would be everything that she wanted. Her heart fluttered incessantly, a coolness creeping down her spine.

_Does he even feel the way I feel?_

The question hummed about her lips. Along with a dozen others, the loudest being the question left unfinished. Was he going to marry Lin? Was all her heartache for nothing? But she restrained herself, closing her eyes and trying to establish the peace that she achieved in meditation - where everything made sense.

"Goodnight." She said, bowing slowly.

Tenzin seemed lost in his thoughts, but said a quiet goodnight in return as she walked away.

Pema broke into a run when she got outside the temple, charging through the shimmering tangle of trees at inconceivable speed. Tears were threatening to fall at any second, but she quickly blinked them away. No. There was no time for self-pity, or self-loathing. Up ahead, she saw the door to their dormitory creaking closed, and Pema's concern for her friend increased unbearably.

When she finally got into the room, Imji was already in bed, her narrow shape facing the wall. Pema walked quietly, wishing she were invisible. Every creak of the old floorboards sent a strongly worded curse through her mind. Though she knew a judgement from her best friend was coming, she didn't feel ready for it just yet.

She blew out the candles, and long, long moments passed in silence.

The one thing that Imji said to her-

"I hope you know what you're doing."

Kept her up all night.

* * *

Tenzin was good at being quiet. As a child, he was able to steal away to the temple roof late at night without anyone knowing. His brother and sister on the other hand, were rackety, raucous children. They lacked subtlety. They didn't enjoy the tranquillity of the night air like he did. Kya would rather be thrashing about in the waves, Bumi chasing the lemurs into the high branches.

If he timed it right, he was certain that when he walked past his mother's room, she wouldn't hear him. It was very late already. He'd surprised himself by how long he could waste stowing away the mops and buckets, allowing the complexities of life to slip away.

But Katara found him in his room. He was twirling a small leaf in his hand, trying with all his might to make it flutter at just the right frequency. She watched her youngest son as he lay on his small, low bed, and wondered when he'd made up his mind.

"You put it back?"

Tenzin had braced himself for the question. But the extraordinary, brilliant answers vanished from his mind in miserable succession.

"Yes, mother. I did."

The Avatar's widow stroked his forehead with her thumb, pressing her palm to his cheek.

"But you were considering it? You wanted to marry her for a while, didn't you?"

Tenzin shook from his mother's touch, addressing her firmly.

"I'm a grown man, mother. The circumstances between Lin and I are private. As difficult as they may be…"

"Tenzin, love," she said, "That wedding ring is a token of love. If you don't love her….Well, I'm sure you know what your father would say-,"

He knew exactly what his father would say. This only spurred his irritation further. He scoffed bitterly,

"To wait. To wait and see. But I first took the ring long ago, mother. And many times, I've put it right back. It's out of duty that I try every so often."

Tenzin did not enjoy the quiet that followed. Surprisingly, his mother was lost for words – a peculiar event indeed. She spoke haltingly.

"Then she doesn't want to marry you."

"She wants me to be in love with her. It satisfies her to have control, I believe. To be able to say no."

Katara sniffed. He prayed that she wasn't crying.

He had of course, considered her reaction. His mother loved Lin, despite her flaws. She was like a daughter to her. Despite this, he knew how much it irritated his mother that the propriety of their marriage was seen as more important than love.

At the start of their relationship, she had been furious at suggestions that her son was courting Lin for the 'political advantages'. When asked if she thought their union would 'help bring stability to Republic city', she had infamously waterbended a drink over the nosy reporter. As she aged, though it hadn't seemed possible, Katara had become even more romantic – and even less respondent to public pressures.

For this reason, he respected the opinion of his mother highly. She would never force him to marry Lin simply because it was the 'right' thing to do. Though Tenzin was used to following the rules, there were some strong morals that often left him conflicted. His mother understood this.

"She misses her mother, Tenzin." She stroked his back with her light touch. "She hasn't been quite the same woman since she lost her." His mother shuddered as she spoke, but a growing hint of that brave smile was in her voice, "But that is no excuse to treat you like she does. And if you don't love her, you shouldn't feel that it's your duty to marry her."

"I won't." He resolved, kissing his mother lightly on the forehead. "I will speak with her tomorrow."

* * *

"Tenzin."

Lin was not easy to miss. Her new police uniform gleamed in the warm light of the temple candles, the silver armour even more impressive in the flesh.

She had not taken off her boots; something that Pema knew always irritated Tenzin. Every movement echoed through the temple hall, which was empty save the small shape of Pema cleaning the floors.

"Excuse me? Do you know where Master Tenzin is?"

Pema's mouth went dry.

"I…I, don't know where he is. I'm sorry."

Lin sighed. Pema turned back to her work.

In Pema's mind, she was in direct conflict with Lin. But the truth of the matter was that Lin had only met Pema once. Pema knew Lin in the way that everyone knew Lin – she was Tenzin's girlfriend (perhaps fiancée) and the police chief. She was an obstacle in Pema's mind, a figment, but seeing her vulnerable, sad even, suddenly added a reality to the situation.

The noise of Lin's boots brought Pema's thoughts to a halt. She was coming closer. Before long, Pema saw the reflection of the imposing figure, glassy and wavering in the floorboards. Her heart near enough stopped.

"You're Pema, aren't you?" she said cooly, her powerful voice echoing in the wide hall.

Pema shifted, defensively.

"Yes, I am."

There was a pause. Someone outside beat the gong, signalling the end of a long day. Pema stopped and turned to look at Lin, who had remained stock still, waiting.

Lin was beautiful, in a rough around the edges way. Her lip bore tiny puckered bruises; her hair was tangled, but was black and shiny. She glowed with energy, her pale cheeks damson coloured. For Pema, it was heart-breaking to see her up close. Lin could make her feel small and worthless in comparison.

It reminded her of the day her father had refused to buy her a very expensive kimono doll. Watching another girl, a richer girl, a more deserving girl, run off with it had reduced her young self to grizzling tears.

But where was Tenzin?

She should have known he wouldn't show up the next night. She and Imji had arrived to find everything lain out, with no sign of the airbending master. Her roommate has set straight to work without complaint, apparently tired out by the wide range of unsubtle remarks she'd been making up throughout the whole day.

"_I'm not sure I like drinking tea. It makes me feel old. But you like old things, don't you Pema?"_

At first, Pema was hurt by these remarks. But as they grew more ridiculous, she learned to ignore them. If her friend wasn't going to react maturely to the situation, Pema saw no reason to indulge her. After all, Imji was hardly perfect herself.

Tenzin appeared, breezing into the room. He seemed calm, his handsome face expressionless. Pema's heart skipped.

"Lin?"

She drew her head in, blushing. He was looking at Lin, not her. If anything, he seemed to be ignoring her presence. It was best if she minded her own business.

"Hello."

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched their shapes drift together, linger, then withdraw from each other's embrace. Pema felt dizzy, her stomach churning. But she pressed on, rubbing at the floor fiercely.

As they walked away, Pema finally took the opportunity to see, once and for all, if he had proposed to her. But there was nothing on her hand. There had been nothing in her voice, or her manner, that suggested it.

But what was this temporary relief Pema felt? For all she knew, he could be proposing right now. They disappeared off together, leaving Pema in agonising uncertainty.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hi guys. So sorry it's taken me so long to update...As usual, reviews are always welcomed with a big bear hug (or a handshake if you're not that touchy-feely) Hope you enjoy. **

* * *

"She's younger than I thought she was."

Tenzin looked at her through weary silver eyes, with a hint of a grimace. He'd half been expecting these words.

They stood in the courtyard, where Lin had led them in silence. Tenzin remained a few feet away from her. It was difficult to believe that he had just embraced her, but he found that he had had to – out of force of habit, a feeling of propriety – which had then been replaced by an undeniable guilt. The gulf between them could have been an ocean and their time had passed, there suddenly seemed no point in maintaining the façade.

"I've got to hand it to you, Lin, you don't miss a beat."

Lin tossed back her thick black hair, sticking out her chin. Sometimes, she could look so like her mother it was disconcerting.

"I'm not stupid – I presume that's what you mean."

Though distressed, Lin cut a noble figure against the gloom of the spring evening. He could remember, now, the moment when he had first thought he loved her. It was on an autumn morning. She had just had her haircut, and was rolling her eyes at one of Bumi's stupid jokes, and she had turned to Tenzin and said,

"_Thank the spirits I've got you."_

They were so much younger then, so much freer. Their parents had lived, tempering the fires of their relationship with their respective humour and humility. It had flourished when they were young and slaves to passion, without jobs or responsibilities. But not now.

Now, she was trembling and her fists were clenched. Tenzin edged slightly closer, but could not bring himself to touch her. This reminded him too much of that night – the night Pema had professed her love for him. That night, Lin had perhaps been wrong to accuse him of loving Pema , but now-

"What do you expect of me, Lin? Where do you want this…this relationship, to go? You don't want to marry me," he stood his ground, growing more sure of himself, "So what do you want?"

All was quiet. But there was noise in Tenzin's mind. Tenzin swore that he could hear, if not feel Pema's presence. She was keeping him from running away from this conversation, which felt like an execution. It needed to happen – for Pema. For Pema, with her warm, beating heart – so acutely different to the woman of steel who turned to face him now.

"Does it matter what I want, Tenzin? The fact of the matter is, you-,"

Lin stopped herself. For once, hesitating. She took one step away from him, averting her gaze. Her voice was tremulous.

"You don't want me anymore."

Tenzin felt as though the air had been knocked out of him. He gazed at her, almost confused by what she had said. He had expected emotion, a flare of anger, but in all the time he had known Lin, he had seen her cry only once. And yet he watched a tear fall from her face, running down her silver armour.

Tenzin stepped forward, and took her hand. She snatched it away.

"Don't pity me, Tenzin. Tell me the truth."

"The truth, Lin, is that I was unsure of what I wanted." He murmured.

She closed her eyes. "How cliché."

Tenzin shook his head, "Lin, for so long I did love you. Perhaps it surpassed that – perhaps I couldn't imagine life without you." He sighed, "But, and you must see this too, we have been this way for too long, and-,"

"And she's new and pretty and young. And she'll do whatever you want."

Tenzin grabbed her hand, fiercely.

"Pema is only part of this, Lin. You must be able to see-,"

"Perhaps I do, Tenzin-," she spat back. "Perhaps I would rather believe she had taken you than I had lost you."

Tenzin halted. She said nothing more, and began to leave the courtyard, her tough boots heavy on the soft grass. But he couldn't leave it there. He knew it unwise, but as she walked away, the gravity of the decision crept up on him.

"Lin."

She stopped, but did not turn.

"We have long been friends. It may be difficult, but I believe we should-,"

"Fuck off, Tenzin."

* * *

Pema's arms had lost all their feeling and she was certain that she had cleaned this part of the floor already. But her head was dizzy with uncertainty. It was as though she was standing on the top of a great precipice, from which she would fall or be saved – and rubbing her hands raw cleaning this floor was the only thing capable of reminding her where she actually was.

Thankfully, she could not hear the two speaking, however much she strained herself. It would have been greater torture to hear her fate through a thin sliding door, she reasoned. It left her, instead, in a state of drawn-out anticipation.

Turning and grabbing for the bucket again, she all of a sudden heard footsteps approaching her. Pema took a deep breath, lowering her head to continue with her work.

"Hey, Pema?"

It was only Imji, who stood by her, grimacing. Pema mustered a smile, batting away the disappointment of not seeing Master Tenzin returning for her.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I was thinking, while I was dusting that ugly old statue, that I'm being a bit of a bitch about this. I didn't even like, let you explain yourself. So yeah. Sorry."

Imji fell to her knees and grabbed Pema in a tight hug, lowering her head. Pema began to laugh.

"Maybe you should do that thinking thing more often, Imji," she teased.

Imji pressed her head into Pema's shoulder, giggling. "Yeah, I'm sorry."

She quickly drew back. "Now, tell me everything."

Pema laughed. She had suspected that one of Imji's motives for being so apologetic was so that she could get all the dirt.

"Okay, not now though. I've got to finish up here."

Imji rolled her eyes, scooting forward. "Pema, this floor is spotless. I would eat my dinner off of it."

"Maybe that can be arranged?"

Imji punched her friend softly in the arm, grinning.

"Okay, pal. We'll talk about this later. But remember, you've got to tell me everything."

She departed, stopping only at the door to wink suggestively in Pema's direction.

"_Everything_."

Pema threw the brush after her.

In mere moments, the nervousness returned, accompanied by a flutter of heartbeats. But she could no longer be drawn into the monotony of cleaning. Pema instead sat stock still, trying to breathe slowly.

Tenzin had been gone for so long. But she couldn't leave yet – she had to know. She felt, somehow, that he would come find her, and release her from this doubt. Or perhaps he wouldn't, and she just seemed a romantic fool for waiting. Either way, she remained where she was, sitting in the quiet of the empty temple as though part of the scene. Minutes, hours, decades seemed to pass in this silence.

This was how Tenzin found her. His heart skipped a beat when he walked through the door to see her small, solitary figure in the centre of the room. A breeze floated through the hall, making him shudder in the cool night air. There was something sacred in this moment, he thought. All thoughts of Lin and all regrets were siphoned away, dissolving in the evening's sigh.

And Pema turned, slowly, to face him. She had no doubt it was him – his aura was powerful to her, giving her a feeling of delight and peace in equal measure. Throwing caution to the wind, she got up and walked towards him, bare-footed and hopeful. She found there was no need to say any words. She saw it in his face. There were no traces of the weary, confused airbender here. He was younger than she had ever seen him, and smiling. Smiling at her.

Tenzin looked into her eyes and saw what he had been fighting for. Someone bright and golden, who said she loved him, because of who he was. Tenzin took the hand she offered, pulling her closer and grinning. Pema grinned right back at him, and laughed. The laugh echoed through quiet hall, the temple, and in the night air, it must have been audible all over the island – the two shy solitary figures, united.

Pema breathed in his scent, so new yet so familiar. She pressed her hand into his heart, listening to its calm, steady beat. She felt there would be no more interruptions or setbacks – just peace. Gently, she brought her face to meet his, and he smiled once more. For a moment, they simply looked at each other, righting themselves on this new ground.

Then, she kissed him.


End file.
